The SSS class adventurer is a divine cleric

"The establishment known as Ashen Boar Tavern has developed a unique culinary technique involving Wyrmleaf, a highly toxic, regionally common herb known for its numbing properties and subtle mana stimulation.

"What they've done, however, transcends normal food preparation. The dish served to me was not only fully purified of its toxins but preserved its ethereal warmth, taste, and… emotional resonance.

"I am submitting a recommendation to award the tavern with the Royal Crest of Culinary Distinction."

There were murmurs.

A duke scoffed. "A rundown tavern… with miracle cuisine? Surely not."

The inspector stared him down. "Then send your palace chefs to replicate it. I welcome their failure."

She dared to talk back like this to a duke because she herself was a duke who really loves food .

A day after the report's submission, word had spread like wildfire through the merchant and culinary circuits.

"Wyrmleaf? That poisonous weed?"

" Gasp! Five thousand XP a plate?"

"A tavern in the hills printing money off a weed?"

"That's daylight robbery, might as well rob the bank."

Scheming merchants whispered behind velvet curtains. Culinary guilds muttered with envy. A team of elite chefs and priests quietly departed the capital with forged travel papers and ambitions too large for their stomachs.

It was already midnight and the tavern was quiet that night. Lamps flickered warmly. A soft hum of wind swept through the trees. The kitchen was empty. Or so it seemed.

The door creaked open.

Five figures in black robes and enchanted slippers tiptoed inside, silently, well-practiced and smug.

"Check the spice rack," one muttered. "Look for purification items, scrolls, crystals, enchanted ladles and whatever that is suspicious."

"Ladles?" the youngest whispered.

"Just shut up and search."

Another slipped behind the pantry. One wandered into the cellar. Two eased into the kitchen, gloved fingers reaching for jars.

And that's when they noticed something strange.

The air was too still.

No mice. No creaks. No distant tavern snoring.

Just a presence. Thick and suffocating.

One of the figures turned toward the entrance and came face to face with Neal, golden hair tousled, eyes like sunrise over flame.

He yawned.

"You done yet?"

The five froze. The room trembled slightly.

From the far window, Alira stepped down onto the counter with silent grace, a blade between her teeth, smiling coldly. Behind the curtain, Derek emerged with a mop in hand and the weight of a retired S+ Rank in his shoulders.

And then Kaelen…

Kaelen stepped out of the shadows, holding a half-eaten apple and wearing a bored expression.

"Relax," he said, waving his hand. "They're paying customers."

"…What?" the intruders said in unison.

"You ordered the Wyrmleaf special, didn't you?" Kaelen grinned. "That's five thousand XP up front."

"W-We didn't mean.. " the youngest one answered.

Kaelen walked closer, tapping the countertop.

"Oh no, no. You did mean to or are you here to steal?" Then his mana flared

"No no no. You truly jest master Kaelen, we are just here to take a bite of that tasty famed dish of yours. Please forgive our late intrusion. You see we had been in a dungeon and forgot what time it is, you guys know how sometimes time differs inside the dungeon right. "

"Right right, you're absolutely right. Please take a seat. It might take a few minutes to prepare the dish this late."

A long pause.

Then they reluctantly took a table for themself as Neal was standing right in front of the door and Alira was playing with her daggers by the window.

A moment later Ten plates of the special Wyrmleafs dish came out freshly made and steam was still coming out of it.

"By the way, this is made especially for you my good friends and I called it the midnight robbery."

The oldest of them already knew they were cooked, beads of sweat started pouring from his face, dripping from his chin, his hand shook like a vibrator but still accepted the food with a forced smile.

The youngest one among them took a sniff and the aroma was too inviting which made his stomach crumble and his mouth water, so he tried to steal a bite. But before he could do so.

"Pa..pa…pa but you have to pay up first, we have too many customers that dine and dash so you have to pay up first."

The leader among them gritted his teeth and with a smile uglier than a cry, reluctantly handed 50k XP.

"BULLSHIT! Is this how you repay favors? I already said they were specially made for you."

The leader gulped down a mouthful of saliva and asked cautiously. " Then how much?"

This time Kaelen smiled. " Now that's more like it." Then he raised a finger.

"100k?" The leader's eyes widened.

"Nope it's 100k per dish which means..."

Then.

Before Kaelen could finish his sentence the leader gave a signal and all five of them rushed to the window towards Alira finding her the easiest target. But before they could take another step mana threads came to life and bound all of them in place. A second later they could see a glowing fist crashing down straight at their face knocking them unconscious.

The next morning the citizens found 5 naked bodies stripped bare of every possession lying flat and unconscious on the cold floor of the central market place.

Elsewhere in the capital, dozens of chefs had gotten their hands on Wyrmleaf. Some were gifted from nobles. Others were bought at extortionate rates. After the success of the Ashen Boar tavern the price of Wyrmleafs had skyrocketed and some had completely refused to sell, waiting for the price to inflate.

They sliced. They steamed. They boiled.

They invited clerics. Priests. Alchemists.

But none of them could remove the poison.

Their dishes were either bland or caused hallucinations that ended with vomiting in flowerpots. One dish made a noblewoman sing to her curtains for two hours before collapsing.

"It doesn't work," one chef cried. "The leaf is cursed!"

"No," a priest muttered darkly. "The boy is… blessed."

In the Ashen Boar Kitchen

Early that morning, Kaelen wiped his brow and leaned over the simmering pot.

His eyes were bloodshot but focused. He stirred clockwise, then counterclockwise, then whispered something ancient, not a spell, but an intuition. A feeling.

The mana around the dish shimmered.

"Still can't believe you don't read books," Alira murmured behind him.

"I read faces. Muscles. Injuries. Wounds. You'd be surprised if you know how many herbs I can differentiate just by looking at it, they may look the same to the untrained eye but not to me," Kaelen replied smugly, pouring a droplet of silver essence into the pan.

"Here he goes again bragging," Neal added.

Kaelen grinned. "I'm just telling the truth."

Ashen Boar stood tall that night, its humble frame masking the legends within. Let the greedy come. Let them try.

The monsters ran the kitchen. What could they do?